With you
I will usurp
The heights of the snow
Mountains:
With you
I will sweep with broom
Of witches
The gelid particles
The genesis of night-dews
The petals of manna
That fall from the heavens
When the night installs
Itself as sovereign
All these
With you
With you only
I will usurp.
When the time comes.
When the owls hoot.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem